


Just Us

by CadetDru



Series: Virtues of the Arrangement [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Justice, Light Angst, M/M, Seven Heavenly Virtues, The Arrangement (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/pseuds/CadetDru
Summary: There is no justice, just us.There might not even be that.





	Just Us

It was 1978, and they were on a London bus going nowhere special. Crowley was seated behind Aziraphale, unable to see his face but at least able to talk directly to him. Aziraphale was untethered, a demon on his shoulder and an insignificant road ahead. Riding on a bus just to have a safe conversation was easily one of the more tedious precautions they had ever taken. Neither couldn't remember who had suggested that one, but it worked in its own way.

Aziraphale did more net Good after the Arrangement than before.  He was able to temper the actions that Crowley would have taken, while still making sure that they were done. He rarely refused to do something altogether.  He had a sneaking suspicion that Crowley tried to carefully curate the tasks that they took on together.

"What did you want to talk about?" Aziraphale said, softly but brightly. "Anything brewing?" 

"Not a thing," Crowley said, leaning forward to Aziraphale so he could drop his voice.

"My dear boy, then why are we here?"

"I've come to propose a new agreement."

Aziraphale sputtered with all the righteous indignation befitting an angel having to turn down a familiar temptation.

"I'm not doing it any more. I'm going on strike," Crowley said, his voice a raspy whisper.

Aziraphale scowled.  "So, I'll do the work for both of us, shall I? That's taking the Arrangement a little too far, don't you think? Things should be fair, just, balanced," Aziraphale said. "You can't just leave me to it."

"I have no intention of leaving you. We make it balance," Crowley hissed in the vicinity of Aziraphale's ear. "And I, for one, am sick of tipping the scales.  There is no justice in this world, angel. There's just us. We can't change what they're going to do, not really. We make our little impressions, but it doesn't really matter. Why don't we embrace the idea?"

"And you propose just stepping away from the scales?"

"Both of us step away.  It would balance then, wouldn't it? They don't need us, or interference. If there's to be any justice in this world, ever, it has to come from with humanity.  We can go off together, take a real break. We've earned it."

Aziraphale didn't answer.

"We stop working, let the humans do it all for themselves with their free will and their obvious knowledge of the difference between right and wrong that I generously helped them to."

"You want to celebrate our own lack of free will with a pleasure cruise?" Aziraphale, the shock in his voice elevating the volume. "It doesn't work that way."

"It doesn't have to be a cruise.  You don't strike me as the cruising type." Crowley smiled at himself.

"No," Aziraphale said flatly, quietly. "You can't keep doing this. You can't use me as an escape. You do this every few decades. It used to be every few centuries. Why don't you go and take a break on your own? Find some suitable human, tell your people that you're tempting them to a life of debauchery."

"Angel..." Crowley purred. "You never get to rebel. You never get to live a little. Take a chance."

Aziraphale managed to straighten up from his already rigid posture. Crowley was surprised his wings didn't come flying out, that his old flaming sword wasn't automatically summoned back into his hand to strike down the demon before-- behind-- him. "Rebellion is the first step to falling, as you well know. I have even less free will than you do. I simply can't do anything of the sort."

"Angel..." Crowley repeated. Crowley was quite draped around the back of Aziraphale's seat. His lips were close to the angel's ear.

Aziraphale fell on himself, turned a little towards Crowley. Crowley could see his eyes were closed, could almost see tears behind them. Aziraphale started to speak again, distinctly broken: "It would probably be for the best if we didn't see each other for a while. You need a break from the Arrangement, not from the rest of it. A moral demon is no good to anyone, even if your morals are distinctly lacking here. Tempting an angel, of all things. There's no balance in that."

"I'm not suggesting this just for your own benefit," Crowley hissed. "And this isn't some great victory for Hell. I am being completely selfish, I assure you." His snake eyes glinted over the tops of his glasses. "That's encouraged for me."

Aziraphale didn't answer, suddenly intensely interested in looking at anything besides Crowley. Crowley remained too close, examining the angel's inscrutable features. He pulled further. It would be so simple to kiss just behind the angel's ear, so he did. There was a complete lack of response, no shudder of desire or repulsion. Crowley didn't exist for the angel.

"Just a break?" Crowley asked, pulling back. The hiss was receding.

 "Of course," Aziraphale said, not sounding at all sure of the meaning of the words. Or he knew, and he wasn't sure of his own sincerity. "I think this is my stop," Aziraphale said, carefully making his way off the bus. Crowley watched, slumped forward. He didn't usually lose at temptations.

"It's not the end of the world," the young man across the aisle said. Crowley looked over to with a start. The boy nodded towards Aziraphale's distancing form. "You'll get by, with or without him. You're better than him, you'll see."

Crowley smiled. He went back to work, tempting the boy into joining him for dinner, then a trip to Spain, at the expense of his new relationship. The Arrangement was back on by the time the boy returned to his sobbing former partner, who rejected him. They both made literally God-awful art mourning the experience. The end of the world kicked off with the delivery of the Anti-Christ three scant decades after the day on the bus, and Aziraphale would refuse another holiday excursion-- this time to Alpha Centauri-- another decade plus later.


End file.
